


play the way you feel it

by armario



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Hand Jobs, In which Thor stays on the Milano for a while longer, M/M, Multi, Music Kink, Slightly Altered Timeline, spoilers for Infinity War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 04:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armario/pseuds/armario
Summary: "You need music to come?""It's a Terran thing.""No it's not."





	play the way you feel it

**Author's Note:**

> Really explicit, everyone, so just be warned. While I am projecting here, I can definitely see this being a trait of Quill's. I hope you enjoy it.

Quill doesn’t mean to offend Thor when he scrabbles to reach his headphones. In the moment, he can forget that this isn't actually normal. Music is enjoyed by many, but Peter's soul deep connection to it is somewhat unconventional. 

          “You wish to drown me out?” Thor rumbles, snapping his hips forward with emphasis, causing Quill to almost whimper.

           “No, no,” he says breathlessly. “I need- I can’t really explain-”

Gamora chooses that exact moment to barge into his fucking room which in retrospect is her right, but doesn’t stop him from slumping defeated propped on his forearms. He knows she won't judge, probably finds it amusing if her raised eyebrows are anything to go by- and yeah he'd hated this jumped up one eyed jackass when he'd crashed and gotten everyone starstruck with his stupid muscles and  ~~freakish charisma~~ arrogance, but now he's gotten over that and wants a piece of Thor just as much as the next Guardian. So, he thinks with a hint of smugness, here he is. Because he has _mad game_ and can seduce a god.

                     “Starlord wishes not to hear me during our coupling,” Thor tells her, unfazed even as he’s still buried in Quill’s ass.

                     Gamora is equally unfazed as she answers, “It’s not that. He needs music.”

 Thor laughs. He pulls out of Quill somewhat roughly, but negates his empty whine with a patient hand on his cock. It’s hard not to buck up into his grasp, flushed red with the embarrassment of trying to explain this particular problem.

         "You need music to come?"

          "It's a Terran thing."

          "No it's not."

He glares at her.

Gamora sits beside them, lays Quill’s head in her lap and runs her fingers through his damp hair, exasperated.

          “Sorry,” he says to them both, not really sure why, kind of vulnerable and missing the cure to the butterflies in his stomach and leak of his dick.

          “Take the headphones out then,” Thor decides, absently brushing his fingers over Quill’s dick. “Let me see what it does to you.”

Gamora takes the headphones out and hands him the Zune. He doesn’t want to put anyone else off, isn’t sure what song to pick. He can’t think straight with Thor’s tight grip and Gamora’s gentle hands sending shivers down his back. ‘Dreams’ stands out, melancholy enough and still gives him _that feeling_ , the one that makes his skin come out in gooseflesh and his heart sing.

Gamora knows this one, he plays it to remind himself that if it’s shitty right now it won’t be forever. She smiles encouragingly; he plays the track. It's not that music turns him on, he imagines explaining to them. It's that it amplifies everything he ever feels. Catharsis, whatever you want to call it, that makes him feel anger and sadness and joy- and now, arousal, all magnified tenfold by a combination of sounds that pass through his most prized possession into his waiting ears.

        “Go on,” he croaks to a curious Thor.

The god of thunder, and that’s a concept he’s still finding difficult to accept, parts his legs and pushes his cock inside of him again. Quill gasps, Thor smirks. Gamora lays his head back down on the bed and shifts around to take hold of his cock.

 Stevie Nicks’ soulful voice tells them thunder only happens when it’s raining and now Quill appreciates how appropriate the song choice was. He feels better now that his world is back in rhythm, where there’s no music, he feels incomplete.

He wonders if they understand or accept it as another thing that makes him weird.

         “Close, Peter?” Gamora asks kindly, as though she doesn’t know, as if every twist of her wrist wringing precome and soft moans, Thor’s brutally good pace, the notes that resonate in his soul aren’t taking him to an astral fucking plane right now.

        “Yeah,” he manages anyway, bringing up a hand seeking contact to curl around her arm and the other tightening in the sheets.

        “Come on,” Gamora encourages, picking up her pace, calm and knowing. Quill is in love with her. “You can do it.”

Before the song finishes.

His grasp on her wrist tightens involuntarily and every sharp thrust Thor makes knocks the breath out of him. The pleasure, the music, builds up until he’s right there on the edge.

 _You will know_ , says Ms. Nicks. Whatever that means, he thinks he does, past communication right now as he closes his eyes.

         “Good boy,” Thor says. And that isn’t fair, not a gentle tip over the edge but a really hard shove. He comes with a choked off cry, biting his lip to muffle the sound.

         “Not fair,” Quill pants, aftershocks running through him. He surrenders to Thor continuing to fuck him deep, laying back tired and overstimulated, groaning as Thor’s cock finds his prostate and milks him just that little bit more. He opens his eyes a fraction, heavy lidded and sated. Gamora smiles indulgently and he grins. The song fades to its end and Quill knows he wouldn’t have come so hard without it. He doesn’t know why it's like that, just that it's always been part of him.

       “Quill,” Thor growls in warning, digging his nails into Peter’s thighs before emptying inside of him.

       “Fuck, that’s hot,” Quill murmurs, squirming a little at the feeling. It’s not exactly unfamiliar, and he guesses Gamora is aware of that (maybe she’s even turned on by it), but the fact that this is Thor coming because of _him_  makes it all the better. The claim makes him feel stupidly emotional, heart right now in the hands of his companions.

  Thor pulls gently out of Quill with a long exhale, taking his comfort too, but sensing it and playfully ruffling his hair. "I liked your song," he comments, without inflection. Peter is eternally grateful that he doesn't pick apart his strange needs.

 "You did? Well, it's Fleetwood Mac we're talking about. They're-" he stops himself, shakes his head. "No. Just go and listen to them."

 "All right."

 "No, promise me, Thor. You're missing out-"

 "All  _right,"_ he interrupts, firm but good-natured.

 Aware of his manners and gorgeous teammate-friend-soulmate, Peter rolls over onto his stomach, looking with adoration as he asks, “Do you want….?”

      “You look very tired, Star-Lord,” Thor says measuredly, the mischief in his voice apparent. “Perhaps I could take care of lady Gamora.” At this he turns his head in polite inquiry to the woman in question, who answers with a most devious smirk.

       “Oh, come on, that’s-” _Too far? Unfair? A huge fucking turn on?_   Peter complains, unable to keep the incredulous laughter out of his voice.

Thor tilts his head; Gamora leans close and whispers, “You’re still my favorite.”

      “I know,” Quill sighs, pulling her down for a soft kiss.

The god of thunder clears his throat.

      “Fine!” he tells them, all mock exasperation. “Give me a half hour and I’ll join you.”

Thor grins and grabs him by the hair to kiss him briefly, then offers his hand to Gamora.

Quill lays back on the messed up sheets and wonders what the hell kind of sex pheromones Thor must secrete and where he can get some.

 ***


End file.
